


Pretty Boy and Scary Man

by idanato



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Pre-Time Skip, Rare Pair, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Games, Sylvain needs glasses, eventually fluffy, hate sex that turns into love sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:34:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21786040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idanato/pseuds/idanato
Summary: Hubert takes it upon himself to teach Sylvain a lesson after listening to him complain about crests, yet again. They begin to engage in a game, when Sylvain behaves poorly around women, Hubert punishes him. When Hubert is caught being creepy, Sylvain humiliates him. Eventually punishment and humiliation fade away to making sweet, sweet love.
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 10
Kudos: 58





	1. Punishment

**Author's Note:**

> Y'ALL when I posted this there were no (english) Hubert/Sylvain fics...NOW THERE'S 15 in the tag!!!!!

The whole game had started because Sylvain couldn’t keep his goddess damn mouth shut. He knew as he was saying it that Dorothea didn’t deserve this line of questioning. She was flirty with everyone, it wasn’t like she was trying to seduce and entrap him. But he ranted at her anyway about women and crests and how horrible both were.

To her credit, Dorothea didn’t break down and cry like some girls. She dished it right back at him and sauntered off to find a different friend to dine with. Sylvain groaned because he knew he was going to hear about this little conversation from Ingrid later. He hated women because he hated crests and continuing bloodlines, and he hated himself because the girls he unleashed this anger on didn’t deserve it at all. Dorothea had called him out and he deserved it, but it didn’t really feel like a real punishment. He hit on girls all the time because he didn’t really like them so it didn’t matter if things went sour. He just moved onto the next one like nothing happened.

The game started because Hubert couldn’t stop himself from eavesdropping on conversations, especially when they involved members of his house getting yelled at by people he hated. He prided himself on his ability to stay cool and unaffected but even Hubert couldn’t keep his anger off his face as he listened to Sylvain deride Dorothea about her lack of a crest. Hubert hated crests and he did not feel bad about that at all.

He peeled out of the shadows he’d been hanging in and caught Sylvain before the Blue Lion student could go terrorize someone else.

Sylvain jumped a little at Hubert’s sudden appearance and then groaned, “Hubert, why are you so creepy?”

“You go around accusing women of wanting to sleep with you for your crest. If I’m creepy, what does that make you?” Hubert couldn’t loom over Sylvain because they were eye to eye, and that was extremely annoying. In a contest of physical strength, Sylvain would likely win, but it would be close.

“You know it’s rude to listen in on private conversations,” scoffed Sylvain.

“Oh that was private? It was hard to tell by the way you were shouting,” said Hubert in his dry raspy draw. Hubert leered at Sylvain with contempt, “Leave Dorothea alone, and stay away from Petra while you’re at it. Just because they do not have a crest does not mean they want yours.”

Sylvain didn’t back down, he smirked, which only made Hubert’s blood hotter. “What’s it to you anyway?

“Because I don’t have a crest either, and I don’t appreciate the implications of your words about crestless people,” hissed Hubert. Nothing made his stomach turn like the way nobles traded in crests. It was gambling with people's lives and happiness, and Hubert hated gambling. He wanted Sylvain to feel the kind of degradation Hubert felt while listening to Sylvain’s complaining.

Sylvain folded his arms and stared, “I’m not wrong. They want to fuck me for my crest.”

Hubert sneered, “They wouldn’t be,” he paused not really liking to speak this way in such a public setting, but this was Sylvain, “They’re not fucking you, you’re fucking them.”

Sylvain shrugged, “I don’t really see the difference.”

Hubert knew he should walk away, but Sylvain made him madder than almost any other student. Sylvain was mean to women, and no one was especially mean back. Hubert decided this was a fight worth picking up. “Do you really want to feel the difference?” He got up in Sylvain’s face as he said it to be as menacing as possible. “Because I would like nothing more than to punish you for how you just spoke to Dorothea.”

Sylvain found this offer - well okay it was a threat not an offer - highly intriguing. Part of him did want to be punished for how he spoke to women, although this wasn’t quite what he had envisioned. “Fine, punish me. Tell me the time and place.” Time to see if Hubert was as scary as everyone said or if he was just bluffing. Sylvain preferred board games, but he’d play this, and he’d win.

Hubert jerked his head towards an empty room off the main hall, “There, right now.”

Sylvain still thought he might be bluffing. Surely Hubert was madly in love with Edelgard. There was no way he was going to carry out this silly threat.

So Sylvain scoffed in his easy going way and led the way into the room. Hubert locked the door and Sylvain realized maybe the Black Eagle was not bluffing. Hubert shoved Sylvain to the floor. He was rough, but moving slowly and deliberately as if to say, _“You can still leave.”_ Sylvain was not going to back down from this.

Sylvain had tried something like this one other time with someone he used to be better friends with. He had misread their friendship and overstepped a line. Sylvain had lied and said it was a joke gone too far and of course he liked women, but neither of them ever really talked about it again. Dimitri was civil but they weren’t friends like they had been. Now Sylvain was about to get fucked by someone who hated him which was frankly like when he went out with girls: no risk of hurt feelings when things didn’t work out.

Sylvain felt Hubert’s weight against him as the Black Eagle got on top of him. Hubert had one gloved hand at Sylvain’s throat and one on his pants. Hubert was fumbling a bit and it was pretty clear that he had no idea what he was doing. Sylvain put his arms up so that he could rest his head on his hands.

Sylvain gave him a challenging glance, “What’s wrong Hubie? Don’t know where to put it?”

He probably shouldn’t have taunted him. Hubert’s hand left Sylvain’s neck and his forearm came to rest across Sylvain’s shoulders to pin him down. “Shut up,” Hubert paused and an especially evil look crossed his face, “Pretty boy.”

“Pretty boy?” laughed Sylvain. “Aw Hubert I didn't know you had such a massive crush on me. If I had known--”

Sylvain stopped laughing as Hubert pulled down Sylvain’s trousers and boxers to expose him to the cold of the classroom. Sylvain psyched himself up for this to finally happen. He’d prefer it to be with someone more attractive in the face than Hubert, but as far as bodies went Hubert wasn’t bad. Sylvain wouldn’t have pegged him as down for this given how he followed Edelgard around like a shadow but perhaps this is why she trusted him to get so close to her.

The experience was not all together unpleasant but it was pretty obvious within the first few seconds that Hubert had very clearly never done this before, and hadn’t done any homework on it either.

“Ow, Hubert, you’re not very gentle,” complained Sylvain. “I might say dumb shit to girls but I’m always courteous in the bedroom.” At least he thought he was.

Hubert was incredibly rough and hadn’t really done much in the way of warming Sylvain up. “Sorry pretty boy, this isn’t a reward, this is a raw punishment.” His arm was still holding Sylvain down and his other hand had come up to hold onto Sylvain’s waist.

Sylvain winced at the burning sensation and the sudden feeling of uncomfortable fullness inside him. His immediate feelings were of pain, but with a glimmer of this could be good with practice. His body eased up just a little as they continued.

Sylvain must have been making a goofy face because Hubert grinned at him, “You like this pretty boy, you like getting fucked by someone without a crest who can’t do anything with yours?”

“Kind of?”

Hubert rolled his eyes, “This is a hate fuck Sylvain.” As if to get his point across he jammed himself in as deep as he could go. Hubert thrust against him like he had a fucking metronome going in his head.

Sylvain winked at Hubert, “Yeah sure Hubie.” He pulled out his own hardening dick and decided to focus on getting himself off.

All in all, Sylvain gave the experience a 5/10. A failing grade, but with room for improvement. Hubert lost points for no foreplay and his face, but got some for the spontaneity and shear fearlessness of it all. Also because Sylvain had been dying to know what it was like to be with a man but afraid to make a move since making a bad one on Dimitri.

“Well, you definitely punished me,” said Sylvain as he straightened out his uniform and tried not to focus on the soreness inside him. “That was your first time.”

Hubert did not confirm or deny that as he got himself sorted out.

“I’m not sure I learned my lesson though,” teased Sylvain, as he tried to test out the waters with Hubert. Was this a one time adventure or a regular thing?

“Well you know where to find me,” said Hubert humorlessly.

“In the shadows,” tried Sylvain. He wanted this to be a game, with a clear winner and loser. Hubert might have started this but Sylvain was going to win it. “How about every time you catch me doing something objectionable with a girl, I’ll be bottom. But, every time I catch you doing something scary, you have to be bottom,” suggested Sylvain.

“So it’s like a big game of tag,” mused Hubert as he adjusted his trousers. “Fine.”

“Really?” Sylvain couldn’t believe he’d just gotten spooky Hubert to agree to such a thing.

Hubert shrugged, “I get off and get to watch you struggle beneath me, sounds great.”


	2. Humiliation

The game got rules. Rule 1: They could opt out at any time with no reason given. After that though the game would stop and whoever had opted to stop would lose. Rule 2: Leave no trace of the game, this meant no torn clothes, no broken skin, no bruises on purpose. And finally, Rule 3: tell absolutely no one. This meant no telling Felix or Ingrid, and no telling Edelgard. Everything else was fair game. 

Sylvain was still looking for a way to get Hubert. Sylvain decided punishment was not the route to go, instead, he wanted to embarrass the crap out him. The problem was the Black Eagle was so hard to catch in the act of doing something sinister. Usually Sylvain showed up too late and Hubert would scoff at him and his lack of proof. 

This time though, Sylvain totally had him. Hubert had in his hands a wayward embroidery hoop and a needle. As he held them out to Bernadetta and told her that someone could have stepped on the needle and hurt themselves she fainted. Not a subtle faint, but a full on collapse in the hall. Hubert had stared at her in shock and then looked around as if searching for what to do. Sylvain had to cover his mouth to stop from bursting out laughing at the big dumb mage. 

With an embarrassed grimace Hubert awkwardly picked Bernadetta up and carried her back to her room. As Hubert exited the paranoid girl’s dorm, Sylvain was there with his accusatory gaze. 

“What did you say to her to get her to react like that?” demanded Sylvain. 

Hubert tried to push past him, “I didn’t say anything, she’s just afraid of my face.” 

“Well who could blame her?” Sylvain teased him. 

Hubert stopped and glared at Sylvain, but didn’t say anything. He was caught and Sylvain grinned as he contemplated how he was going to take his prize. He gestured for Hubert to follow him and mage sighed and consented. 

“Face the wall,” ordered Sylvain as they got to a private stretch of stone behind the dorms. 

“Seriously, out here?” demanded Hubert. 

“I mean we can stop and then I’ll win,” said Sylvain. He was wondering what Hubert’s limits were going to prove to be and Sylvain was confident he could surpass them. Semi-public acts didn’t bother Sylvain; he supposed being caught with Hubert would suck, but he’d recover. 

Hubert turned to face the wall, “Okay what now?” 

Sylvain smirked, alright then. He was prepared today; he’d done some research in the library -- which had consisted of searching around blindly for relevant literature, but then running into Linhardt, who was apparently a goldmine of information on many topics -- and he had a better idea of what needed to happen. He was even carrying lube in his pocket instead of an unused lipstick.

Sylvain put his hand on the back of Hubert’s neck and pushed so that Hubert’s face was flush against the wall. Hubert grunted, “Is this really necessary?”

“I don’t want to look at your ugly face, I might faint like Bernadetta,” chided Sylvain. He thought about when Hubert was mocking him with ‘pretty boy’ and decided on his own nick name for the disgruntled mage, “Scary man.” 

“Fuck you,” whispered Hubert as Sylvain started to slide his hands into place. 

“Maybe you’ll get a chance again,” said Sylvain into Hubert’s ear as he found the spot he was looking for. 

“Can you just hurry up?” demanded Hubert. 

Sylvain pressed the mage’s face harder against the stone. “If I rush I’m going to hurt you like you hurt me. You need to relax. Stretch. You know.” 

Hubert had grown quiet as Sylvain’s fingers found their way inside him. Sylvain chuckled at his silence, “Who’s scared now scary man?”

“Can you not call me that?” growled Hubert. 

“I’ll stop calling you scary man when you quit,” teased Sylvain as he rocked himself into Hubert. Hubert only grunted at that. So neither of them were ready to quit yet. 

“How does it feel to be touched nicely scary man? I’m sure this is unfamiliar to you,” said Sylvain. He laughed a little, “Can you imagine someone walking by and seeing this, big scary man getting pegged by a pretty boy?”

Hubert declined to respond as he took it. The lube made things quite a bit nicer and Sylvain decided he was going to insist this was the new Rule #4 when he was done. 

“You know, I always thought people born without crests were freer to be themselves but I think you have me reconsidering,” said Sylvain into Hubert’s ear. 

“Excuse me?”

“With my crest, I can never tell if someone likes me for me or not. It really messes with my head sometimes. But you, you don’t even have the luxury of people pretending to like you,” chuckled Sylvain. Hubert stayed silent at that although Sylvain did not miss how tense the mage had gotten at that. 

When Sylvain was finally done, Hubert was pretty quick to get out of there even though he hadn’t finished himself. Sylvain felt a little guilty as he watched his rival scamper off, eager to get the hell away from him. Sylvain sighed as he straightened out his uniform and looked at the wall where he’d been smashing Hubert’s face against the stone. It was wet and Sylvain wondered if he’d actually managed to make Hubert cry. 


	3. A shift in emotions

**Revenge…?**

The game of sex tag continued. Hubert overheard a heated exchange between Sylvain and Leonie and had punished him behind the sauna. Sylvain had caught Hubert threatening Shamir and embarrassed him by taking him in the fucking cathedral in the chapel of the saints after hours. Neither of them were backing down. Hubert had accepted Rule #4 and was getting just a bit better, but Sylvain had only bumped him up to a 5.5/10.

Now Sylvain was going to get Hubert so good with this. And by so good, he meant so bad. He was going to trick Hubert into punishing _himself_ and quitting. Usually when the dining hall served this particular dish, Sylvain avoided it at all costs because it backed him up like no other. This time though he did two heaping servings. He knew it was bad when Ingrid started gagging behind him in class as she sat down wind of what he was putting out. That’s when he knew it was go time.

He was going to piss Hubert off by flirting with Edelgard. There was no possible way that Hubert would be able to let this go. Sylvain sought out Edelgard, right in front of Hubert, winked at her, and asked her if she was interested in international relations and diplomatic affairs.

“Do you have a death wish?” demanded Hubert as he shoved Sylvain into the nearest empty classroom.

Sylvain grimaced at the feeling in his guts, this had been a total mistake, but here he was not backing down when he should. “I have to warn you, your gloves are going to get a really dirty if you do this.”

Hubert stared at him, “What?”

“Lasagna man, what can I say?” His stomach gave a foreboding gurgle.

“That was dinner three nights ago,” said Hubert, clearly repulsed.

“I’m good to go, but I understand if you need to quit,” smiled Sylvain. He was completely not good to go. He was going to need a janitorial crew in here if Hubert took the bait.

Hubert paused and then forced Sylvain down to his knees, “Use your mouth.”

Sylvain dumbly opened it because he hadn’t considered this as a possible alternative. The game was still on and he now had to give head for the first time. This was not going as planned.

Sylvain had gotten enough blow jobs to have a fairly good idea of what to do. He was fine in theory although it was another beast completely to be eye level with Hubert’s dick. It, wasn’t bad... Just like the rest of him, Hubert kept his privates neat and tidy. Life could be worse.

Life did get worse when Hubert decided to snake his gloved fingers through Sylvain’s hair and pushed himself further into Sylvain’s throat. It was surprising and immediately hard to breath. Sylvain did that to girls sometimes, now he probably would not. He would however completely do this to Hubert if the opportunity arose.

Sylvain gave an A+ effort and even let Hubert finish in his mouth, which he followed up with a self-defeating swallow. Hubert’s facial expressions when he came were a hilarious sight to behold. He was so careful with his expressions, but he couldn’t hide this: sheer pleasure.

“Get on the desk,” ordered Hubert with a nod towards Byleth’s desk.

Sylvain paused, weren’t they done? “Why?”

“Just do it,” said Hubert. Sylvain laid down and Hubert loosened Sylvain’s shirt, exposing his torso. Sylvain’s skin tingled as one of Hubert’s gloved hands gently caressed him. He started to massage Sylvain.

“What the hell are you doing?” laughed Sylvain. It kind of tickled.

“Helping you with your problem,” scoffed Hubert as he rubbed tiny circles into Sylvain’s abdomen.

“Excuse me?”

“You think you’re the only one at this school who finds the food disagreeable? This will move things along,” promised Hubert as he focused. “Or you could just drink coffee.”

Sylvain was going to joke and ask if that’s how Hubert stayed so crazy regular when he felt something shift inside him and had to excuse himself to get to the men's restroom at breakneck speed. He could hear Hubert’s laughter as he fled.

**Compassion**

Wyvern riding day was always a lot of fun to Sylvain. He wasn’t nearly as good at it as Claude, but he was okay. Hubert never did well at this and always kept his eyes shut. Sylvain and Felix usually made fun of him a little but today Sylvain wasn’t feeling it. He especially wasn’t feeling it as Seteth lectured Hubert about all the stuff he was doing wrong and Hubert just glumly nodded along as if to say “ _I know, I know.”_

As they returned to the stables to dock the wyvern’s back in their pens Sylvain could not help but notice how Hubert kept shying away from his wyvern, which in turn kept snapping its massive jaws at him, making the whole thing worse. “You know they can sense fear right?”

“I am aware,” said Hubert stiffly as he did the minimum amount of effort to tie up the wyvern and get the hell away from it.

“Why are you so afraid of them?”

Hubert looked rather uncomfortable, “It’s not them, it's heights.” His words were whispered and ashamed. Sylvain noticed how red Hubert’s ears had gotten.

“Oh man, scary man is scared of heights?” teased Sylvain. He delighted in seeing the red in Hubert’s ears spreading out to his cheeks.

“You didn’t catch me doing anything, can you please stop?” Hubert was staring at the ground.

Sylvain was kind of shocked by how bad he felt having said anything. He did a quick scan, there wasn’t anyone around. Hubert was always the last person to put his wyvern away because he always got the longest lecture about how bad he was at sky watch.

Sylvain turned back to him and then kissed Hubert. Not in a flirty teasing way like he did with girls when he was motivated enough to get a second date, but an honest to goodness “ _Please feel better_ ” kiss.

“What was that for?” demanded Hubert with confusion as he pulled back.

“Because I wanted to?” shrugged Sylvain as he threw his arms up.

“Why?” whispered Hubert. Hubert wasn’t really one for emotion, but Sylvain felt like he was hearing fear in his fuck buddy’s voice.

Why did he want to kiss him? “I thought it would make you feel less bad?’

“But, why would you want that? I thought you liked humiliating me,” hissed Hubert defensively.

Sylvain shrugged, “Maybe at first? I don’t know!” He wasn’t good at relationships, he rarely got past a third date. So he wasn’t exactly prepared when Hubert timidly kissed him back. In all this time trying to catch each other and fuck they had never actually exchanged a proper kiss.

It wasn’t like kissing a girl. Hubert tasted like coffee and used too much tongue. He also was pushing Sylvain into a pile of hay, and Sylvain was simultaneously pulling him on top of him.

“Uh, truce!” whispered Sylvain.

“What?” demanded Hubert in confusion.

“This isn’t a point in the game, I’m just uh, I’m just being nice because you’re so pathetic,” stammered Sylvain.

“Fuck you,” sneered Hubert as he proceeded to do just that. It wasn’t a punishment and it wasn’t humiliation. The game had changed.

**Trust**

There were a lot of rumors about why Hubert wore gloves all the time and Sylvain wanted to know which one was true. Someone had said that Hubert’s hands were all messed up from some poison mishap, or that he had used too much dark magic and they were discolored and unsightly. Hilda insisted it was because he painted his nails. Sylvain decided he was going to find out.

They weren’t going to go to Sylvain’s room. It was right next to Dimitri’s, and Sylvain really didn’t feel comfortable doing anything that could be potentially overheard by the prince, especially not this. So he waited till long after most people were in bed and crept down the darkened dorm hall. As promised, Hubert’s door was unlocked.

“Can’t you take your clothes off too?” Sylvain tried as he stripped by candlelight.

Hubert’s eye twitched as he awkwardly rubbed one arm, “I’m not sure that’s a great idea.”

“Why?” demanded Sylvain. He invoked the game even though they were long past playing it, “Are you quitting?”

Hubert made a face and then started to undo his shirt, “You’re not going to like it.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” said Sylvain as he waited in anticipation. Shit maybe Hubert really had destroyed his hands doing some dark spell.

It wasn’t quite as grotesque as the rumors would suggest, but it definitely wasn’t pleasant. “What is it?” demanded Sylvain as he looked at the red scaly patches that ran along Hubert’s body. They were worst on his hands and at his joints.

“It’s just eczema,” said Hubert uncomfortably. He held up his long hair and Slyvain noted red patches along the mage’s scalp as well. “It’s worst when I'm stressed out.” He gestured to his gloves on the desk, “They help me not scratch as much, because then it just scars over.” He pointed to his elbow where Sylvain could see clear lines extending out from where Hubert’s scratching had inadvertently left great big patches of scar tissue. No wonder he covered up so much.

“Is it contagious?” Sylvain was feeling a little nervous. Leprosy had been thrown out as an explanation for the gloves.

“No,” said Hubert as he stared at his clothes, clearly wishing to put them back on. Then he looked back at Sylvain, “Are you quitting?”

“No, but I’m wondering why you’re so stressed,” said Sylvain honestly as he gestured for Hubert to get into bed.

“Just empire business,” promised Hubert as he pulled up the covers to obscure their nakedness. Hubert wasn’t punishing him any more and Sylvain wasn’t interested in humiliating him. Sometimes they made love to each other, while other times they just slept side by side, and Sylvain never had to worry that Hubert was just using him for his crest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SYLBERT! 
> 
> I don't know y'all, I will literally write any hubert ship. Even a sinking one.


	4. Breaking Rule 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An epilogue of sorts to display their domestic chaos.

Edelgard was eating with Dorothea and Petra and the three looked like they were having a great time. Hubert eyed the remaining seat at their table longingly but had a feeling he was not exactly who they had in mind to join them. As if fate was making the choice for him the professor joined them instead.

Hubert held his tray and looked around for an open spot. Sylvain, sitting with Ingrid and Felix, started to wave him over. No. Did this idiot not understand the concept of secrecy? Bernadetta was nearby and Hubert decided to take his chances with her instead.

“May I sit here?” Hubert tried to look as friendly as possible as he set down his tray across from her.

“EEEP!” Bernadetta’s eyes rolled and her face fell straight into her soup. Hubert quickly pulled her head up lest she drown in the two inches of chicken noodle she had submerged her face in. Luckily the scalding soup seemed to wake her right away. “Hubert, what, what did I do to deserve this interrogation?”

Hubert felt his embarrassments creeping up inside him, “Maybe I can just sit to the side of you so you don’t have to look at me?”

Bernadetta was drying her broth drenched face off with a napkin so she could cover her eyes, “I would really prefer if you didn’t. I’m sorry! I’m just not ready to die yet—”

Hubert sighed and looked around for empty seats in the packed dining hall. He could sit with Ferdinand and Lorenz - fuck no; Caspar, Linhardt, and Ashe - ugh; Claude and Hilda - never in a million years. Hubert lifted his tray and trudged over to join Sylvain.

Ingrid and Felix looked at him in confusion as he sat down. “I was afraid you didn’t see me,” said Sylvain cheerfully before slurping up a noodle.

“Who could miss your flaming red head?” asked Hubert dryly. “You’re like a beacon on the battlefield that screams ‘shoot me’.”

“Are you two, friends?” Ingrid stared at them in confusion.

They spoke at the same time; Sylvain decided to say, “We’re playing a game,” while Hubert went with a safe, “We’re training with lances.”

Sylvain recovered first and proudly declared, “We’re playing lance games.”

Hubert wondered if anyone had ever been killed by embarrassment. He focused on his soup and finishing it as quickly as possible so he could get the hell out of here.

“Oh shit,” murmured Sylvain as he hunkered down to avoid the gaze of a particularly incensed young woman. Too late, she’d seen him and she was cutting a path to them.

“Sylvain you asshole, you stood me up again,” screeched the student. She folded her arms and shook her head, “Don’t talk to me anymore, and if you try to ask out my roommate again for a threesome, I’m going to shove your lance up your butt.” She stormed away.

“I think he already has someone else’s lance up there,” said Felix perceptively under his breath as he stared at Hubert. Hubert would try to play cool but he was the least cool person in this fucking school, so he kept his eyes squarely on his meal instead.

“That was pretty mild,” said Ingrid. “You need to stop asking these girls out and then ignoring them.”

“I have a busy schedule, I double booked myself,” said Sylvain as a weak defense. His knee bumped Hubert’s and so Hubert scooted a little further away from him. They might not be playing the game as strictly any more but its rules made up the foundation of their weird arrangement. Rule #3, secrecy, was perhaps the most important one to Hubert.

“Does this happen often to you?” Hubert felt an unfamiliar emotion welling inside him. Was this, was this jealousy? Fuck. What did he care if Sylvain was going out with girls, he and Sylvain were just hooking up not dating. It couldn’t be jealousy, it had to be the soup. Indigestion. That was the clear explanation.

“No,” insisted Sylvain unconvincingly.

Ingrid and Felix both looked at him as if to declare he was full of shit. Ingrid frowned, “You hit on every woman you meet, even my poor grandma.”

“Granny Galatea is a good lookin’ lady,” protested Sylvain.

“She’s married to my grandpa!” snapped Ingrid. “She’s also 80!”

Felix looked at Sylvain with a dubious stare, and then at Hubert damningly, “Sylvain likes to hit on tall ugly guys too. Especially ones without a personality.”

“What?” laughed Sylvain nervously.

“I’m talking about that scarecrow you chatted up,” said Felix dryly. He then returned his stare to Hubert, “He needs glasses.”

“I told you, I made an appointment with the eye doctor, gosh,” grumbled Sylvain.

Fuck, Hubert had a horrible realization, maybe Sylvain was only with him because he couldn’t see him clearly. That would explain a great deal actually. Fuck. Maybe he had to find out when this eye doctor appointment was and give Sylvain another double booking. He looked guiltily at Sylvain and worried that he couldn’t actually see, which was pretty dangerous on the battlefield. He couldn’t in good conscience keep Sylvain from getting glasses, he could get killed and then he definitely wouldn’t keep hooking up with Hubert.

They never did it in Sylvain’s room. In fact, Hubert had never even set foot in there. This was okay with Hubert; his room was neat and orderly and he knew how often he changed his sheets.

“Will you just hold still for two seconds,” hissed Hubert as he tried to adjust himself around Sylvain. He had to find a comfortable angle to do this but Sylvain kept bringing his hands up to Hubert’s waist and moving him unhelpfully. The bed was also creaking, which annoyed Hubert. He wanted all evidence of this kept to a minimum, and creaky bed noises were a dead give away. However, as he settled into a favorable position, the creaking became less noticeable. This was Hubert’s new favorite place: to be on top of Sylvain while still having him inside of him. Paired with Sylvain grabbing at him like he needed to hold him, well the bed’s heaving sighs were an acceptable price to pay.

Hubert let himself get lost into the throes of Sylvain’s thrusting until his joy was interrupted by an angry pounding at the door. In horror Hubert threw his pillows and a blanket over Sylvain as the door opened, because of course Sylvain hadn’t bothered to lock it. Dorothea was holding a candle and looking pissed, “What on earth are you doing up here! I have put up with this sound for weeks, what the fuck Hubert?”

Her room was directly beneath his, and apparently she had been hearing the creaky bed too. Awesome. Hubert tried to play it cool like he often sat up in bed like this with no clothes on. Hubert turned his head over his shoulder, “I’ll be more cognizant of the noise, sorry.” Sylvain was still trying to move inside him and Hubert was fighting with all his worth not to show it on his face as his lover continued to rhythmically rock him. His body wanted to orgasm but his brain was screaming “ABORT”.

“Whose legs are those?” demanded Dorothea as she pointed to Sylvain’s hairy legs emerging from beneath Hubert. He cursed internally as he realized he hadn’t covered up all the evidence.

“Hi Dorothea,” came Sylvain’s muffled greeting.

“Sylvain, seriously,” screeched Dorothea loudly. Hubert didn’t even think about what he was doing as he cast the sleeping spell at her. She dropped like a pile of books to the floor.

Hubert was pissed as he freed Sylvain’s face from the pillows so he could choke him, “You just had to be silent for two minutes.”

He wasn’t stronger, and Sylvain didn’t care for being choked. He easily batted Hubert’s arms away and in a fluid motion tipped Hubert back to finish him off quickly. Sylvain was looking at Dorothea as he continued to fuck Hubert, “What did you do to her?”

Hubert reached up and grabbed Sylvain by the jaw to redirect his gaze, “Can you please look at me instead of her as you—” He lost his train of thought as felt Sylvain releasing inside him. “Thank you,” muttered Hubert through gritted teeth.

“Any time babe,” smirked Sylvain jovially as he leaned down to kiss Hubert.

Hubert pushed him off as he sprung from bed to deal with Dorothea’s benign magically induced snoozing. Hubert pulled on his sleeping clothes, he could not get used to sleeping in just boxers like Sylvain, and tried to lift Dorothea up. She was way fucking heavier than Bernadetta, damn it. “Can you please make yourself useful?”

“Oh right,” said Sylvain as he got up to help. “Damn Dorothea, what does she eat like Raphael?”

The two of them managed to move her all of three steps before Hubert was ready to give up at the thought of having to take her down a flight of steps, “Uh maybe we should just leave her here.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you wanted to add a third,” laughed Sylvain. “Although your bed is a little small don’t you think?”

“We could leave her in here and you and I could just go to your room,” suggested Hubert. Goddess he was fucking an idiot. A big handsome idiot who definitely needed glasses.

“Eh, I don’t know about that,” said Sylvain reluctantly.

“Fine, you go sleep in your room _alone_ and I’ll,” Hubert sighed and grumbled, “I’ll go sleep in Dorothea’s room.” He assumed no one else was presently down there.

“Oh don’t do that, I guess you can visit,” said Sylvain.

Hubert grabbed his pillow and a blanket, and gave Sylvain a scathing glare, “You guess?”

Sylvain screwed up his face, “Don’t be like that. I’m just embarrassed to take you there, my room’s a mess!”

Somehow that did not surprise Hubert at all as he followed Sylvain to the end of the hall. Sylvain’s room was an utter wreck even by moonlight. Hubert did his best to climb over all the junk littering the floor to crawl into Sylvain’s large bed. The stiff sheets reeked of a hundred different perfumes, “When was the last time you washed your bedding?”

“What?” Sylvain stretched out and looked at him like that was a foreign concept.

“You do laundry right?” Hubert suddenly didn’t want to know and his eczema was hissing at him _“You’ll regret this knowledge!”_

“Uh, don’t worry about it,” said Sylvain as he snuggled against Hubert.

Hubert was definitely worried about it but they had bigger problems. “Well, Dorothea knows.” He sighed as he contemplated the way gossip traveled from the songstress’ lips. “I think Felix does too.”

“Well yeah I told him,” said Sylvain sleepily as if was no big deal.

“Rule 3,” hissed Hubert. “Tell no one!”

“What?” demanded Sylvain defensively. “I tell him everything important.”

Hubert wanted to slam him with a biting retort but he was too dumbstruck by the admission that Sylvain actually considered him important. He found his throat a little tight at the thought, “What, what did he say?”

“He told me I had to get my eyes checked,” yawned Sylvain. “Sleep tight scary man.”

“Night pretty boy,” muttered Hubert.


End file.
